


Bound, Ground, Pounded

by Primarybufferpanel (ArwenLune)



Series: The Diva And Her Bodyguard [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, F/M, Frottage, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Dynamics, Smut, Switching, helmet riding, switching mid-play because your bondage ain't good enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:35:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22761376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLune/pseuds/Primarybufferpanel
Summary: She had told him to get on the bed so she could tie him, and he, perverse man, had laid down in his full armour, a smirk in his voice when he asked if that was what she meant.It hadn't at all been, but she can work with it. She can make him wish he'd gotten undressed, for one thing.
Relationships: Paz Vizla/Original Female Character
Series: The Diva And Her Bodyguard [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673845
Comments: 26
Kudos: 108
Collections: How To Get In Trouble With Your Mando





	Bound, Ground, Pounded

**Author's Note:**

> OK, some context is required here. This is set a couple of months after '[The Bodyguard](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22670080)' and I guess kind of spoils a little bit for Continuation? But basically Paz is alive and trying to provide for the remains of the tribe. Paz has, just like Din, had some serious Thoughts about the helmet and the creed, so his stance has shifted. Din sends him to Sanbra to pick up some of the work he was promised. Including being bodyguard for Loysia. Because I thought the two of them could have a lot of fun together. 

Loysia stands back and inspects her work. She has her bodyguard tied to the bed in the middle of the room. Arms above his head, ankles pulled down so he can't move his legs—Loysia spends a long minute admiring him. He's a large man, bulky and imposing… when he's towering over her. Like this, willingly tied, he's offering an intoxicating amount of power into her hands.

The first Mandalorian bodyguard she hired had been bonded with somebody, or at least attached enough that he hadn't been interested. About six weeks later he's sent her his brother for a couple of bodyguarding jobs. Paz is excellent at her side in a crowd, a person shaped tank that no mob would consider pushing. She'd taken him on a tour of charity performances and hopes he'll be available for every single future tour.

That he is also enthusiastic about being in her bed is an excellent bonus. And unexpectedly, he is not as opposed to letting her take the lead sometimes as she'd thought a man like him might be. They've had all kinds of fun for the past weeks before she had dared to venture this idea. His response to her whispered suggestion that she'd like to tie him to her bed had been 'Sure, sounds fun.'

(she's checked, every single instance and until his vocal exasperation, if he knows that his employment and his place in her bed are not dependent on each other. He knows. She needs to trust that he knows.)

She had told him to get on the bed so she could tie him, and he, perverse man, had laid down in his full armour, a smirk in his voice when he asked if that was what she meant.

He's got his boots and gloves off, but that's it. It hadn't at all been what she meant and he knows it, but she can work with it. She can make him wish he'd gotten undressed, for one thing.

"Now isn't this something," she purrs, walking along the head end of the bed, to where his hands are. His helmet tilts along with her path, but he can't quite keep her in his view.

His fingers twitch when she presses a kiss to his palm.

"I normally have more skin to work with," she murmurs. "So this is a little bit of a challenge."

She loves to tease and tantalise, when she has a lover tied up. Use feathers and brushes and her nails, ice cubes, pinwheels, a string of pearls, anything that can be dragged or scraped or stroked to set somebody's nerves alight. Without any exposed skin, she'll have to employ a different sort of teasing.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," he rumbles. His breathing is audible through his voice modulator; he isn't entirely relaxed with this situation. Or perhaps already a little excited.

He would have undressed for her if she'd asked, she knows. He's even taken off his helmet with her before, he's less conservative than his brother. She's aware that that's a big deal, and she'll never ask, let alone take it off of him. If he wants it off, he takes it off, or he'll have to ask her very convincingly to do it for him.

The tension of not being able to see her is doing something with him, so she stays up by his hands for a bit longer, letting him listen while she opens up a toy chest to select some options. It's high summer, so he's not wearing his heavy underarmour layers. Touching him is not out of the question; there may be a little as two layers of cloth between her and his skin.

And while she is blocked from touching much of him… he is also confined in his armour. She wonders if she can get him to a point where he'll beg her to take it off of him. Probably not. He's a proud man.

"Mmm," she hums thoughtfully, coming around suddenly to his side and climbing on top of his chest. Loysia is a tall woman, but she's little more than half his weight, and she knows he has no problem taking her weight. Likes it, even. He grunts softly as she settles, sitting tailor-style on his torso. She primly arranges her short summer dress to cover her thighs, like the lady she very much isn't here with him.

She smiles down on him as she leans forward, and then tips up his chin with a firm finger under the rim of his helmet.

He's wearing his flameproof cowl, but that's practically no barrier compared to the rest of him, so she trails her fingers over the side of his neck. He takes a deep breath and stills, not giving any reaction.

"Do you remember the safeword?" she asks him.

He hums affirmatively.

"Do you want to say it right now?"

"No?" he sounds puzzled.

"Do you want to continue?"

"_Yes_." More impatient. She didn't really think he wanted to stop, but there's no expression to read, and even her Lorrdian skills of reading body language have limits and blind spots.

"Then _relax_," she tells him. "I'm not torturing you. If you're going to lie here and stoically endure… That isn't really the idea here. The plan was to both enjoy ourselves, right?"

He makes a conceding kind of noise and his head tilts to the side a little, giving her better access to his neck. He'll never be the most responsive of her lovers, but he at least allows her to see his reactions.

She spends some time working on the cracks between his armour, so to say. Finds the places where there is something approaching softness and works her fingers in there, stroking and kneading what flesh she can reach. The heavy muscles of his shoulders, the meat over his ribs, the backs of his thighs. It's doing more for him than she'd expected; almost any kind of touch seems to be a good touch for him. She even finds a ticklish spot, but it's not exactly anything that has him urgently regretting keeping the armour on.

She has an idea though.

She moves up, knees next to his helmet, and delicately settles her silk-clad mound against the chin of his helmet, hiking up her dress so he can see. Paz is suddenly breathing hard, and she can see his hands clench into fists.

"Fuck, Loya…."

"Mm-hmm?" she hums, finding the right angle to grind her clit against his helmet, a little off-center. She loves when he loses the formality and uses her nickname.

He makes the most desperate noise she's ever heard from him.

"Are you really—fuck, you know I—Loya!" he's moving his head.

"What is it, darling?" she asks sweetly, clamping her knees against his helmet to hold him still.

"F-Fuck, take off my helmet. Take—take it off. Sit on my mouth, fuck, I need—want you to—let, let me—"

She finds a rhythm that works for her and ignores him for a few long moments. He's cursing softly, presumably in Mando'a.

"I can't fucking _feel _you," he growls in frustration.

"Maybe you should have thought about taking off the gear before you got on the bed," she says mildly. Her indifference is a pretence—she does love his face between her legs, and his ravenous enthusiasm for the task endears him to her greatly. She glances behind her, and sure enough, his erection is visible though his clothes, a thick ridge under his codpiece.

Well now there's an idea.

She slides herself down his torso, sitting herself squarely on the beskar codpiece.

"Oh, this has a nice.. _bulge _to it…" she murmurs, grinding down on the curve of the ungiving metal. She can tell the shape of his erection under it, held tight against his body by his clothing. Untouched by the codpiece, which doesn't have inward give. It's a heady kind of power to pleasure herself on his armour while he strains and groans underneath, not getting the friction he wants.

"Regretting not undressing yet?" she asks him sweetly. Her voice is getting breathy. His hands ball into fists, his entire body tense. He makes a growly noise that she takes to mean that yes, he regrets it, but he's not ready to admit to it.

When he's beginning to make some wonderfully frustrated noises she dismounts and casually steps out of her dress and underwear. Paz is breathing hard, and some soft kind of groan rumbles in his chest.

"Like what you see?" she teases, preening a little.

"Fuck, Loya—_yes_." Goodness, his voice has taken on a wonderful timbre.

"Here you go," she says cheerfully, draping her discarded dress over his helmet, laughing at his dismayed sound.

She takes the dildo she picked earlier—a nice size with plenty of texture, and a good suction cup— and pushes it down onto his codpiece. She pulls the tip to the side and lets go, testing its suction hold. It waggles satisfyingly in the air, sticking straight up from his groin.

"Yes," she declares with satisfaction. Then she reaches out to pull the fabric from his helmet so he can see. "Do you like your new accessory?"

He lifts his head a little to see and then drops it back down to the bed with a long, vehement curse in, she has to assume, Mando'a.

"What? I couldn't figure out how to get you out of the gear," she says innocently. To be fair, she did not try very hard. "A girl has needs."

She climbs back astride his hips and leans forward, holding the dildo with one hand and teasing herself with it, slicking it through her soaked folds. She'd gotten worked up just from grinding on him, she is very ready.

"Can you hear that?" she whispers against his jaw, not sure if his helmet picks up the filthy wet noises.

"Yesss," he groans. "Suffering gods, woman. I thought you said you weren't going to torture me."

"Is this torture?" she says innocently. "We hardly ever fuck, we're rarely ever even on the same planet, so not being fucked can't count as torture, surely?"

She lifts her hips and catches the dildo at the right angle, and finally sinking down on it wrings a moan from her lips.

Until now he's been fairly calm, accepting the bonds without protest. Now he's straining against the ropes, cursing under his breath. She can see the muscles in his arms bulge even though his clothes. The ropes she used are strong and she doesn't _think _he could pull loose, but she's not completely sure. There's a thrill in that. In getting him this worked up if there is a chance, however small, that he might break lose.

She's got two fingers on her clit, rubbing herself intently. It's not going to take much, with the noises he's making spurring her along. Then, once she's fucked herself to a couple of orgasms while he can do nothing but watch, she'll take off his armour and take care of him. Providing he asks very nicely.

He strains up and lifts his hips, and she squeals when that fucks the dildo up into her unexpectedly hard.

"Oh _fuck _yeah, just like that, pound me with that thing," she encourages breathlessly, and he straight up _growls_. The sound fires up something in her lower belly, and she pants, curling her fingers under his chestplate, rocking herself faster on the dildo.

There's a snapping sound somewhere, and his torso suddenly surges up underneath her. The sudden situp shoves her down onto the dildo to the hilt, and she cries out a curse, her toes curling, a mini orgasm rippling through her.

The next thing she knows he has his broad hand on the back of her neck and she is being shoved face-down onto the bed. The mattress muffles her startled yelp.

He holds her there with casual strength while he frees his legs. She hears the dildo bounce to the floor, and then he straddles her hips, thigh plates digging into the soft flesh of her ass.

There's a clank as he drops his helmet, and then his unmodulated voice close to her ear, growly and low.

"This what you wanted? Huh?" he grinds his codpiece against her ass. "Little tease. Is this as worked up as you wanted to make me?"

He bites down on the back of her neck, and she wails, high and pained. He doesn't let go, not until her arms and legs are jerking reflexively and she's discovering just how little she can begin against him. He releases her neck with a lick over the burning bitemark and sits up while she gulps air.. She can hear him taking off his armour, quick and practised at the buckles.

He gets up a moment to see to his lower half, and when she turns her head that way to watch him he shoves her face back down into the mattress.

"You want cock that badly, I'll give it to you," he growls, showing a pillow under her hips and getting back on top of her, fully naked now. His thick erection is hot against her ass, and he grinds it against her. "You still want to be fucked with that plastic thing? Huh?"

His voice is harsh, demanding. Loysia can't manage more than a whining sound, shaking her head, mind blank with heat and arousal.

"I thought so."

He shoves a knee between her legs and forces them apart, sliding down to fit his hips to her ass, his legs spreading and pinning hers. She feels blunt pressure at her core and then, fuck, he slowly works that thick length into her. He's breathing hard above her, and she can feel a tremble of effort from holding back.

"Fuck, such a tight little—" he groans. When he's most of the way in he leans forward, one forearm across the back of her neck, his other arm curled around her head, his torso to her back. Crushing her into the mattress so she won't slide away. His first thrust forces a hoarse, breathless noise out of her. He establishes a deep, powerful rhythm, cock dragging against her walls deliciously.

"Fuck, _look _at you," he pants against her temple. "Taking my cock so well…"

He's not restraining her hands, but it doesn't matter, there isn't anything she can do except mindlessly grasp at the sheets. When she tries to hide her face, some instinctive sense of shame to being seen in this state, he yanks her hand away from her face.

"Oh no," he smirks, "I had to watch you take that toy, now I get to see you take my cock."

She manages to work one hand under her own hips, crushed by the weight of him. She can just about touch herself like this.

His grinds down into her and she whines; he's big, when he bottoms out like this the pressure is right on the edge between pleasure and pain, devastating and perfect. She eagerly rubs at her clit.

"If you ever tease me like that again," he pants right by her ear, "You better be ready to take that toy at the same time as me." He leans up a little to make space for his hand between them, and traces his thumb between her asscheeks. A moment of light pressure against her puckered little hole makes it perfectly clear what he means.

She whimpers, unsure if she's taking it like a threat or a promise or both, just knowing it's making her head spin.

"I'm sure that with enough lube and effort, you could take both."

She whines into the mattress, out of her mind, _out _of her _**mind **_with just the thought of it, how patiently implacable he'd be, how full it would feel, how _much _it would be—

"Fuck, the sounds you'd make…"

He settles his weight back onto her, one arm braced across her sternum, the other hand on the back of her head. His harsh pounding rhythm picks back up, grinding deep at the end of each thrust. He's angled differently now, just enough to spear into a spot inside of her that makes the soles of her feet burn. She can't move her hand, but his rhythm is rubbing her clit against her fingers. She's sweating, and the suffocating pressure of him, inside of her, on top of her, _everywhere—_

His face is close to hers, his breath brushing her cheek

"Fuck, you gonna come like this?" he grunts, never breaking stride. "Yeah? All trapped and helpless, getting nailed through the bed? That doing it for you? Huh?"

She moans into the mattress, her whole body tensing up.

"Go on then, come on my cock. Let me fucking feel that cunt clench."

It's like he summoned a speeder to crash into her, the orgasm overtakes her with white-hot fire curling through her. Her whole body wants to move, to curl up, but she can't, there's nowhere to go. He has the back of her head cupped so she doesn't accidentally headbutt him, and she's completely boxed in and trapped by his body. Her walls clench down on his cock so hard that he has to stop thrusting and just grind into her to avoid getting pushed out. Some kind of guttural wail is getting wrung out of her, and she's vaguely aware of Paz grunting a mix of cursing and encouragement against her temple. 

Loya goes completely limp as the orgasm ebbs away, feeling fuzzy and light-headed. Her ears are ringing, and everything except her racing heartbeat sounds very far away. Paz begins to thrust again as her cunt relaxes around him, those last few stuttering thrusts before he buries his face into her hair and gasps through his own orgasm. She can feel him pulse inside of her, and her muscles flutter weakly around him, an aftershock making her gasp softly.

He lets out a long sigh and relaxes, and it only takes a few strained breaths before he really gets far too heavy. She manages to move enough to tap his arm.

"Fuck, sorry." he shifts off of her and she is suddenly light-headed and weightless, like she might float away entirely. "Are you okay?"

"Mmfh," she says, half into the mattress. She feels boneless and wrung out and fantastic. She can't lift her head and there's a more than decent chance she won't be able to turn it either, with the way her cheek had been pressed into the mattress for the last however-long that was. But she can't bring herself to care right now.

Paz lets his hand drift along her spine, big and warm and reassuring. After some vague stretch of time, Loya makes her body work enough to shift a little closer to the bulk of him.

"Do you want the bath now?"

"...that involve moving?" she mumbles.

He chuckles.

"Not necessarily."

He carefully rolls her over and then scoops her up, easy as anything, to walk her to the adjacent bathing room. She'd made sure the big round tub was filled and heated ahead of time; Paz doesn't often have the opportunity to enjoy this kind of luxury, so she makes sure he can indulge whenever he's with her.

He shifts her so he can hold her with one arm—and isn't _that _something— so he has a hand free to make sure he doesn't slip as he steps into the water. She moans as he sits down and lowers her into the bone-melting heat of it. He hums as he stretches out, entire body submerged but his head. He keeps his hand under the back of her head and lets her float for a moment.

When she feels capable of movement, Loya reaches out and wraps her fingers around his bicep, towing herself sideways into his lap. He huffs amusement and settles her there, one arm gathering her to him while he luxuriates in the hot bath.

"All right?" she asks against the skin of his neck. It was the first time he let her tie him up; she suspects the first time he's done anything like that ever.

He hums, sounding lazy and satisfied.

"...so… was it torture?" she asks, with a teasing little rise in her tone.

His hand comes up to grasp the skin at the back of her neck, and she feels her entire body go boneless when he squeezes.

"I thought you were a nice lady," he says close to her ear. "Grinding on my helmet was bad, and then you did _that_," he chuckles lowly. "That _definitely _wasn't nice. Fuck, woman. You have a devious mind."

"Finest on the planet," she grins, nestling her head on his shoulder. He's just massaging her neck now, fingers and thumb making gentle little circles on the abused muscles at the side of her neck.

"Sector," he corrects.

"Flatterer."

"Did you mean for me to get loose?" he asks after a while.

"I didn't plan it…" she murmurs drowsily. "But it was kind of exciting not to be sure that you couldn't."

She feels the vibration of his hum through his chest.

"So are you getting better restraints for next time?"

She raises her eyebrows at that. Next time? Interesting.

"Depends… did you learn a lesson about following the spirit of a request, not the letter? And taking off your armour?"

"Mmm, maybe."

"Then _maybe _I'll get better restraints."

**Author's Note:**

> We were talking about 'how badly can you taunt Paz, should you tie him up and put a dildo on his codpiece, is that advisable' on a Mando discord server and my hand slipped. 
> 
> [Lady_Astro_Ovess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Astro_Ovess/pseuds/Lady_Astro_Ovess) made some amazing artwork inspired by this story! [GO STARE AT IT ](https://twitter.com/OvessBin/status/1240128001326682118)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [SpecialSinBin Request: Frustrate your Mando](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194771) by [Lady_Astro_Ovess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Astro_Ovess/pseuds/Lady_Astro_Ovess)


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